


Epilogue 2: Lead Me To Your Door

by MauveCat



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: Zahra's greatest mystery is finally solved.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Epilogue 2: Lead Me To Your Door

**Author's Note:**

> This builds directly on things in "Learn How To Be You In Time," so it might be helpful to skim through that one if you haven't read it yet.
> 
> The title is from "The Long and Winding Road" by the Beatles.

**_Newark, New Jersey. 1999._ **

Jenny Kovacs rapped on the apartment door. She was only ten minutes late this time. If she was lucky, Mr. Namazi would answer the door because _he_ wouldn’t be annoyed by ten stupid minutes. Mrs. Namazi, on the other hand....

She smiled in relief when the door opened. “Hi, Mr. Namazi! I’m sorry I’m late, but I was working on my algebra homework and I lost track of time.”

“That’s all right, Jenny – Mahtab and I have plenty of time before our movie begins.” Farzad Namazi held the door open to let Jenny into the apartment. “And Zaza has had her supper and her bath, so I hope she won’t give you too much trouble.”

Jenny grinned. Other than constantly demanding extra bedtime stories, little Zahra was probably the easiest kid on her babysitting rotation. “We’ll be fine. That’s a cool tie.”

“Do you like it?” Mr. Namazi looked down at the bright blue silk tie shining against his black shirt. “It might be a little fancy for the movie theater but since it’s a celebration tonight, my wife and I both wanted to dress up.”

“A celebration? Does that mean you heard something on your book?” Jenny asked as she dropped her backpack next to the sofa.

He nodded happily. “I did! Once the last few chapters are completed, my editor says he has a publisher who’s interested in it. I hope it’ll be ready for publication in a few months. Until then, we’re still working on the translations for my older works.” His face lit up as a woman in a dark green silk dress came out of the hallway; she was carrying a brown-haired toddler wearing bright pink pajamas. “There are my precious ladies.”

“Hello, Jenny. We were expecting you a little while ago...?” Mrs. Namazi raised an eyebrow, and Jenny knew what one of the woman’s engineering students would have felt like if they failed to turn in an assignment on time.

Before she could answer, though, Mr. Namazi said, “Don’t be angry at Jenny, _aziz-am_. Her mother made her help with the supper dishes.” His wife’s expression cleared, and she took Zahra to the pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Leaning closer to Jenny, Mr. Namazi whispered, “You blamed your algebra last time. And who does homework on a Friday night? It might be a good idea to keep track of your excuses in the future.” Jenny blushed.

Trying to cover her embarrassment, she asked, “Do you know what movie you’re going to?”

Mr. Namazi shrugged. “Mahtab wants to see _Fight Club_. I’m not sure that’s the best movie for a date night, so... we’re probably going to see _Fight Club_. And are you going to be a good girl for Jenny, Zaza?” He knelt down beside his daughter and picked up a stuffed cat. “Will you show Sir Whiskers how a good girl behaves?”

Laughing, Mrs. Namazi gave her daughter a kiss. She stood up and walked over to Jenny as she fastened a heavy silver bracelet around her wrist. “You can help yourself to the usual snacks and if she’s being _very_ good, Zahra can have a small bowl of ice cream with you. I know your uncle usually works late on Fridays – do you happen to know if Mr. Harper is still in his office?”

“Uncle Steve? Ummm... probably,” Jenny said uncomfortably. Ever since the divorce, Uncle Steve was spending most of his nights in the landlord’s office in the basement. He did more drinking than working these days, but her mother didn’t want any of the tenants to know about that. She’d always been protective of her little brother but the entire family was starting to worry about his explosive fits of temper. “He... might be busy. Maybe my mother could give him a message tomorrow?”

Mrs. Namazi shook her head firmly. “No. We need to settle this nonsense about the rent immediately. When it’s time to renew our lease in four months, we can discuss an increase – but he will _not_ double it! I don’t care if he says now that he doesn’t want to rent to _Ay-rabs_ ,” she finished sarcastically. “My family and I did not escape from the security police to put up with this kind of bigotry.”

“Mahtab....” Mr. Namazi put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll be able to settle this matter. And in any event, we don’t need to discuss it in front of Jenny.” He looked at her with an apologetic smile. “Thank you, Jenny. We’ll be going now – we’ll call if we’re running late.” Taking their jackets from the closet, he gently urged his wife to leave the apartment.

Following them to the door, Jenny stood there and she listened to Zahra’s soft babbling as Farzad and Mahtab Namazi disappeared into the darkness at the end of the hallway.

* * *

**_Battersea, London. 2042._ **

Win sat in the treehouse, scowling at his tablet. He wasn’t getting the results he wanted. Maybe if he used a different frequency.... He looked up as a bright blue light fixture started flashing. With a sigh, he toggled his implants back on and called over his shoulder, “I’m up here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Win relaxed a little when he heard the voice of his favorite aunt. A moment later, Zahra’s head poked through the entryway. “Damn, this ladder is getting long. How about you tell your folks to put an elevator in this thing?” Without waiting for an answer, she hauled herself the rest of the way up. “Here ya go, squirt.” Taking two candy bars from her pocket, she tossed one to Win before flopping down in the beanbag next to him.

“Mum says we shouldn’t eat sweets before supper,” Win said as he unwrapped the candy bar.

Around a mouthful of chocolate, Zahra said, “Good thing we don’t see your mum up here, then. Got something else for you, too.” She reached into her pocket, and Win felt his face fall when he saw the tiny microphone in her hand. “You got a good reason for bugging your dad’s study?”

“How did you...? Oh. Granny told you, I bet.”

Zahra shook her head and took another bite of chocolate. “Nope. As soon as me and Craig got here, though, IRIS told me that you might need someone to talk to. Since there aren’t many situations where _I’m_ the best person to talk to, I got curious and I got to thinking, and then I got to checking around. You did a real good job hiding that thing. Potted plant: classic choice.” She held the microphone out and, after a moment, Win took it from her hand.

“Are you going to tell Mum and Dad about it?”

“I know you don’t think _this –_ “ Zahra pointed dramatically at her face. “—is an ‘ooh, I’m gonna snitch to your folks’ expression. I just wanna talk about it with you. Is there something you think your parents aren’t telling you?”

“Noooo. Maybe? It’s just....” Win looked at the microphone. “You know that Mum and Dad are having a conference with Uncle Varyyn and Uncle Diego tomorrow, right?”

Zahra nodded. “Yeah. Me and Craig are gonna sit in, and the rest of the family will call up from wherever they are.”

Win’s frown deepened. “Reggie gets to be part of it too, but not me and Immy. Do you think that’s fair?”

“Well...not really.” Zahra shrugged. “I get it, though. Whatever we decide will directly affect Reggie and his girlfriend.”

“But it _will_ affect me, and it’ll affect Immy, and all of the cousins too,” Win replied. “Maybe not _now_ , but someday. Immy’s already got a boyfriend, and so does CR, and –”

“Partner,” Zahra corrected automatically. “Devon is genderfluid, remember? Chichima’s case is a little different, though – she and Reggie are engaged, not just dating. He already went to Abuja to meet all of her relatives. Now we’ve all got to decide, once and for all, if we tell her everything about La Huerta.”

Win sighed. “We _could_ just make sure that she stays at the beach house like she did last year,” he said wistfully.

“We could, but then we’d need a story about why she can’t ever see the rest of the island, and we’d need to kill ourselves to make sure none of the Vaanti ever stop by. You know how much that would suck for Diego – and remember how much you missed hanging out with Halaun and Doryyn last summer? Look... La Huerta is really important to all of us, but it’s the Vaanti’s home. We’ve got to make a case that it’s safe to let someone new know everything about the island, and that’s what tomorrow is all about.”

Nodding, Win finished his candy bar. “I know. That’s why Mum’s mom doesn’t know anything about La Huerta. And I guess... if we’re going to tell someone, I _guess_ Chichima should know. Reggie acts like he really likes her.”

Zahra snorted. “I hope he likes her, since they’re getting married. But the important thing is, Reggie trusts her. That’s the most important thing. Look, squirt, it’s really going to be Reggie’s show tomorrow. He doesn’t want to keep anything from his fiancée. I only met Chichima a few times, but I can tell that the girl’s pretty damn sharp and she’d figure out that Reggie is keeping _something_ from her in no time flat. You can’t build a relationship on secrets, Win. Reggie’s got to convince Varyyn that Chichima can be trusted – until he does that, Varyyn can’t begin to convince the Vaanti that it’s safe to bring someone new to the island. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“I know, and I’m not really mad at Reggie. It’s just....” Win crumpled up the candy wrapper. “Aunt Z, I really hate that there are things going on that I don’t know about. It... happens a lot. Not so much here at home, but... everywhere else.” He pointed behind his ears. “I don’t always remember to keep these on when I’m at school and it’s like some of the kids act like they enjoy it when I miss things.”

Zahra was quiet for a few moments; then, scooting her beanbag around so she was facing Win, she leaned a little closer. As she began speaking, she signed at the same time for emphasis. “I know. And that sucks. It can eat you up, thinking about all the things that you don’t know. And it’s awfully easy to start thinking that you can sneak around and listen and try to figure things out. But people like you and me need to be really careful about spying on people we care about.” Win opened his mouth, but Zahra kept talking. “It _is_ spying, squirt, and we need to be honest with ourselves, and we need to be really clear about why we’re doing it. We can’t do it just because we’re curious, or just because we’re afraid. We can only do when it’s the only way to keep our family safe. And... even when we’re tempted to do it because we’re curious or afraid, we need to talk to our family about it. Even when it feels like you’ll die if you just come out and say how you’re feeling, it’s worth it. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.” Zahra sat back. “Shit, that probably sucked. I’m no good at advice. And don’t tell your folks I swore in front of you.”

Win smiled and relaxed a little as Zahra got up and started down the ladder. “I won’t. But, um... Aunt Z?”

“Yeah?”

Win felt his face grow a little warm. “You know the robot vacuums that are always running around? Well, if you see one with a green dot on it... uh, maybe you and Uncle Craig shouldn’t do anything – you know, funny around it for a while.”

“Funny? You mean... oh.” Zahra’s eyebrows went up. “You bugged the vacuum? That’s really good thinking. Weren’t you worried about catching your folks doing something funny, though?”

Win’s jaw dropped. “Aunt Z! That’s – _disgusting_! Mum and Dad are _ancient_!”

Zahra cackled as she made her way down the ladder. A moment later, her head poked back up. “Hey. Are any of those kids seriously being assholes to you? I mean, is it more than just teasing?” When Win gave her a half-hearted shrug, her eyes narrowed. “Well. Before me and Craig leave, we’re gonna have a little meeting with you. _If_ there’s someone who’s being a total fuckwit to you, we’ll show you ways to make their life just a little unpleasant... without getting caught at it. See ya at supper. Maybe we can go downstairs this evening so you can show me how you’re coming on the drum set. I’ll make a rock god out of you yet.” She disappeared again.

Sitting back in his beanbag, Win toggled his cochlear implants off so he could think better.

 _People like you and me_.

Win smiled to himself. Aunt Z was the most amazing person he knew. She was tough and smart and funny and fearless... and she thought he was like her. His smile widened as he picked up his tablet again and started the process of deactivating all of his hidden microphones. It was a little embarrassing, but he’d talk to Reggie before supper, just to make sure he knew that Win wasn’t really mad at him. After that, he’d talk to Immy to see what she thought about the meeting. Then maybe the two of them could talk to Mum and Dad again – maybe if they promised to just sit and listen, and didn’t try to have a vote, their parents would change their minds about letting them be at the meeting.

It was worth a try.

* * *

**_Newark, New Jersey. 2064._ **

DCI Winfield A. Rourke stepped carefully over large chunks of cement, and he stared down into a makeshift grave. There were two skeletons there, and his eyes were drawn to a scrap of dirty blue silk, then to a bit of dark green fabric. He sighed as he turned and walked to a table set up in a corner of the apartment building’s basement. He looked at some of the items that the forensics team had already brought up. There was a man’s wallet, a tarnished silver bracelet, two identification cards. He used his phone to take a picture of the evidence, and he sighed again as he stared at the IDs without touching them.

Zahra looked so much like her mother.

Win jumped a little when a hand brushed against his elbow. “Sorry,” he said as he turned his implants back on. “I forgot that I shut my ears off when the jackhammers started. You wouldn’t believe the feedback. Did you have a question, Sergeant Batista?”

“Not really.” She looked at the forensics team, and she shook her head. “It’s hard to believe. You came over from London to conduct a seminar on cold cases, and you actually solved one.” She looked up at him with a slight smile. “Does that mean that everyone who took the class gets extra credit?”

“I’ll see what I can do. I _should_ talk to your captain to make sure you get credit for solving this, actually. You were the one who tracked down the baby-sitter and convinced her to talk, after all, and I doubt that we would have found the bodies without her information.”

“Yeah. I can’t believe the original detectives never fully questioned her – as soon as she said that the Namazi woman mentioned the Iranian secret police, everyone decided that was the way to go,” Batista scoffed. “They spent years following the international intrigue theory for nothing. Turns out that it was the landlord, and the kid’s mother told her to keep quiet to protect him. Can you imagine... an entire family keeping that kind of secret for so long?”

“It depends on the family, I suppose, and on the secret,” Win said, almost to himself.

“I guess. The baby-sitter is in her eighties. That means her uncle must be ancient by now, but are you going to tell the DA to apply for an arrest warrant?”

Win shook his head. “I don’t have any authority on this side of the Atlantic, so your department would have to make the recommendation. And they _can’t_ do it, because your department no longer has any authority over Harper either.” At the sergeant’s puzzled expression, Win went on. “I’ve just verified that Steven Harper died of cirrhosis in 2016. All I can do is tell the victims’ daughter what happened to her parents.”

Batista frowned. “You think you know how to find her?”

“Oh, yes.” He glanced around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “She’s my aunt. My favorite aunt, actually.”

“Your...?” Batista looked at him with dawning realization. “So when you told the class that you picked a case entirely at random... it wasn’t?”

“Is anything ever entirely random?” Win put his phone away. “There’s always a pattern if you look hard enough, Sergeant. But as far as my seminar is concerned: yes, it was officially random.”

“Chief Detective... I mean, Inspector... I mean... um?” A young patrolman waved at Win and Batista uncertainly.

With a slight smile, Win said, “Mr. Rourke will do. What is it, officer?”

The patrolman pointed toward the stairs. “The chief is up there – media is starting to show up. What do you want us to tell them?”

Win thought for a moment. “Could you ask your chief to say that we’re withholding the identities until we notify the relatives?” He tilted his head toward Batista. “The sergeant and I will see to it this evening.” When the patrolman nodded and left, Win turned back to Batista. “And by ‘we,’ I mean that I’ll drive up to Boston this evening to see my aunt. I’ll return tomorrow, though, to finish up the seminar.”

“Right.” Batista looked up at Win. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but... there’s a wager going on about you.”

“Really?” Win raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

The sergeant nodded. “Yeah. That first day, when you were talking about finding things out without relying on databases or computers? Well, a couple of us decided to figure out what your middle name is without looking it up.”

Win laughed in surprise. “That’s brilliant! What have you come up with?” he asked as he and Batista headed up the stairs.

“Well... it wasn’t hard to find out that your father’s name is Aleister, so that’s what Huang thinks it is. I think that’s too obvious. Garrigan says it’s probably something upper-class like Arthur or Archibald.”

Laughing again, Win said, “Logical theories, but they’re both dead wrong. What’s your contribution?”

She came to a stop as they left the building. “I think... the obvious solution is to just ask you.”

Win looked at her, and he smiled slowly. “Well done. A direct question is always a solid investigative tactic. And I can guarantee that _none_ of you would have come up with the answer. My middle name is Aditya – it’s Hindi. It’s my godfather’s middle name.”

Batista laughed. “You’re right – none of us would have guessed that. Iranian aunt, Indian godfather – your family sounds interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Win agreed.

Taking a deep breath, Batista seemed to come to a decision. “Maybe we could talk about it over dinner when the seminar wraps up tomorrow?”

“Well... considering that I’ll no longer be your teacher after tomorrow, perhaps we should discuss it after class. Until tomorrow, Sergeant.”

“Angie.”

Win nodded. “Until tomorrow, Angie.”

When he was inside his rental car, Win punched in Zahra and Craig’s Boston address. Then, once the car had pulled into traffic and he engaged the automatic steering, he took his phone out and placed a call. He smiled when a familiar voice answered. “Hey, squirt, what’s up?”

“Hullo, Aunt Z. I’ll be in your neighborhood this evening, and I was wondering if you and Uncle Craig had plans?”

“We’ll have to move the bank robbery to tomorrow night, but I think we can fit you into our jam-packed schedule. Why didn’t you tell us you were in the States, you little jerk?”

He leaned back into the car seat. “It’s a very long story – the short answer is, I’m teaching a seminar in New Jersey.”

“Oh, man, you’re stuck in Jersey? That brings up memories. So you just wanna see us tonight, or can you stay a few days?” Zahra asked.

“Well, I can spend the night, and I can come back for a few days after I wrap up the seminar tomorrow. As it happens, I may or may not have a date in New Jersey tomorrow night.”

“Yeah?” Zahra didn’t bother to hide the interest in her voice. “Boy or girl?”

“A sergeant, actually.”

Zahra laughed. “Smartass. Tell me all about it when you get here, squirt.”

“I will. I love you, Aunt Z.”

“Back at you. Later.” The call disconnected and Win sat back, watching the traffic as it passed.

Living is easy with eyes closed

Misunderstanding all you see

It’s getting hard to be someone

But it all works out....

“Strawberry Fields,” The Beatles

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, man, Zahra.
> 
> I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that there was barely any mention of her family in her dossier, and that she never tried to call anyone when the Catalysts were saying their goodbyes to their families. I originally thought that her parents _were_ killed by the Iranian secret police but once I started writing this story... it turned out to be something random, and spontaneous, and petty, and utterly utterly unfair. I think she would have been an entirely different person if her parents had lived, and frankly? I don't think she would have needed La Huerta.
> 
> (And it only took Aleister a year or two before he forgave Zahra for buying Win a drum set.)


End file.
